Total Reviews: 53
Guerlain Chamade is Grand History of perfumery. Lucky to have recently found out and picked up, somewhere inside my cousin's house (precisely down its old dusty canteen), an intact old mignon bottle for collectors. Chamade is a massive old-school (kind of Grasse's old "botteghe profumiere" ideally conjuring) aldehydic/talky/floral/herbal chypre (not so distant in structure and vibe from L'Heure Bleue, Habanita, Cabochard and several Caron's a la Fleurs de Rocaille, Bellodgia or Farnesiana). The composition is quite complex but shortly evolving on my skin, I mean I get soon (after just 20 minutes) the final accomplished aroma which is anyway a complex orchestra of harmonious nuances waving around a central thick backbone (a sort of talky/neutral/soapy/oraganic/aldehydic warm exhalation). There are surely herbal/aldehydic/animalic attributes (yes kind of somewhat "masculine" a la Oleg Cassini, Rochas Moustache, Aramis Devin, Monsieur Rochas, Character and many others), all over supported by hints of spices (mostly clove under my nose), florals, woods and balsams. The whole composition effectively conjugates a more wild kind of organic-talky (apparently abstract) classically chypre vibe with a classier, more subtle/edgy, spicy-floral sort of timeless (namely yet contemporary) sophistication. The boisterous opening unfolds by soon a cocktail of aromatic herbs, balsamic elements, bergamot, aldehydes, animalics and talky floral notes (mostly iris, jasmine and whichever hellish sort of white honeyed floral exemplar). What actually "pushes out" the juice as an utterly powerful one is surely a misty-mossy galbanum's presence (kind of darkly boise and humid) joined to cloves, dusty-woodsy resins and may be pepper, overall connected to the main warmly organic/aldehydic amalgam. There is a notable hint of earthiness throughout under my inquiring (even profane) nose. Gradually along the way animalics, pungent spices, galbanum and herbal notes recede while a gentler connection of balsams and ylang-ylang soothens the "recipe" providing a faint deflection towards a softer more feminine side (in the runaway of a fragrance otherwise unisex or even masculine in perception in its introducing vest). The fully disclosed dry down is properly a regal feminine floral-chypre with a dominant ylang-ylang and a soapy-talky brighter radiancy (a multy toned talky kaleidoscope waving from the dark-green to an immaculate final dazzling white, sliding little by little across the grey and the heaven). An aristocratic piece of very historic perfumery.
01st January, 2017 (last edited: 05th January, 2017)
This is a great fragrance especially the first few hours. It smells like valley of flowers - a valley that is a bit far away from your wooden cabin and as you wake up in the morning the smell wafts in bringing with it a promise of a new day.
Soft and radiant smell of flower and amber. Muted galbanum and nothing loud.
The drydown (6hr later) is disappointing. It veers off the theme and I smell inky incensy notes along with gurelain's signature powdery accord.
This is a review for the EDP. My bottle is from 2015 and it smells beautiful. I don't know what the original Chamade was like, but I am very pleased with the current rose-rich version; my husband instantly detected its smooth lilac note, as well. This is a warm, well blended, sophisticated floral. Vintage Chamade (with real sandalwood) must smell divine, but the reformulated EDP is very, very nice.
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I guess Chamade stands as THE origin of my passion for fragrances. I recently found, in my childhood house, the box of minis and samples I began collecting since the age of nine or ten. Among a bunch of beautiful Guerlain miniature- Shalimar, Eau de Guerlain, Samsara, Mitsouko, Chamade- the only one that was almost finished was Chamade. Hence, I must have loved it, back then. After months of wearing the last tiniest drops from the precious, early 80ies vintage vial, and testing the current Chamade in various concentrations, I reached for the EdP. I'm not an expert on reformulation matters, so I trusted some people that granted the substantial goodness of this version (Luca Turin and Victoria Frolova, to cite a few) and decided that, since it was able to move me, again, it was right for me.
There's not much I can add on the notes or on the feel of such a widely known fragrance. To me, it smells of early spring days, when bulb flowers start pushing- hyacinths and narcissuses (LT mention narcissus in the Guide, hyacinth is officially listed- the two flowers share the same time of blooming and definitely share some facets, the oily, waxy ones, for example) and green things begin sprouting from the dormant soil. The green- floral opening turns into a soft, slightly powdery (better, pollen-y), resinous drydown, glowing quietly for hours and hours. Chamade has become my go-to fragrance, the one I can spray on when no other appeals to me, the one I find myself always happy to perceive, as I move, as I take off my scarf, or my jumper.
This was not a purchase of mine so take my review with a grain of salt. I tested it from the counter several times for the review. The bottle said 'parfum'
Current offering had no longevity on my skin, 90 minutes max. The guerlainade was apparent, but I couldn't even put it in the same class as Grand Amour or Cristalle where you get much more bang for the buck. Just disappointing in general. Mitsouko is where the quality is these days, the Thierry Wasser 2013 tweak making it the cat's pyjamas.
Chamade is a lovely scent, it really is. Unfortunately it was released on the heels of Norell, which does everything better, save the vanilla. Chamade smells like a feminine precursor to what would become Derby, with its leathery, ambery base and white-and-green floral theme, sort of a dirty version of Balmain's ingenious Ivoire. Now we have Catalyst for Women at a fraction of the cost, which takes this theme to grand new heights, and the original Nicole Miller, which is an intriguing jammy fruity variation. With these more rich and exciting options I don't see many people reaching for Chamade but there is really nothing I dislike about it.
I can’t quite make up my mind about Chamade. For a perfume released at the tail end of the swinging sixties, it has an oddly heavy, formal quality to it. Inspired by a Francoise Sagan novel, La Chamade, the name itself means both the drumbeat of defeat in battle and also the beating of a heart of someone deeply in love. This might suggest that the perfume itself is an expression of heady passion or turmoil – but actually, neither the story of La Chamade or the perfume bear that out.
In La Chamade, the novel, a young woman, Lucille, is the lover of an older, wealthy gentleman and falls in love with a penniless young man. In the end, Lucille turns her back on her feelings and returns to her older lover and her luxurious, paid-up lifestyle. What starts out as a pounding of the heart (passion for the young man) ends up as the drumbeat of retreat as she battens down her feelings in order to return to a man she does not love. It is a depressing message for a perfume, no?
Like the meaning of the word “Chamade” itself, the perfume is also a game of two contrasting parts, specifically a spicy, intensely green floral first half and a vanillic, resinous oriental second half. It is like the story of La Chamade in reverse – first, a repression of feelings painted in the silvery-green sharpness of hyacinth and throat-catching galbanum, before finally sliding into a more relaxed, loved-up base of vanilla, fruit blackcurrant buds, rose and jasmine.
There are two things that I don’t really like about Chamade, namely the hissy, aggressively green start (which reminds me uncomfortably of Chanel No. 19) and a certain oily feel to the galbanum and blackcurrant buds in the heart and dry down. But as with everything Guerlain, it is worth persevering with different concentrations and vintages of the scent, to see if one will “click” for you. I have found that Chamade in pure perfume form (and especially vintage) to have the most astoundingly beautiful vanilla, sandalwood, and blackcurrant base, giving off the pleasing impression of a piece of bread smothered in blackcurrant jam – it’s simply divine. The modern EDP is a vast improvement on the current EDT, which I find harsh and oily in the extreme. The modern EDP focuses on the soft, rosy heart of the fragrance and manages to draw it out enough to act as a true bridge between the powdery green floral top notes and the creamy base.
In brief, I suffer through the first half of Chamade and find myself wishing I could fast forward to the “good” part. In fairness, when Chamade is good, it’s brilliant. So, I am constantly in two minds about whether I want to wear it or not. Sometimes, the urge comes upon me and I spray it on, and mostly spend the day regretting my choice. But once in a blue moon, I spray it on and it is absolutely the right thing. The only thing, in fact. I guess my bottle of Chamade stays (for now).
Guerlain's Chamade was the first floral-oriental. It was one of Audrey Hepburn's favorite perfumes.
This is a somewhat heavy, very feminine floral which is held in balance with a dry spice. It is an excellent creation, but a little goes a long way. The heavy floral aspect can remind one of that category, "old woman's scent," so it must be applied lightly.
Still it is a winner.
Top notes: Galbanum, Bergamot, Hyacinth
Heart notes: Muguet, Rose, Jasmine, Lilac, Clove, Ylang
Base notes: Black Currant, Vanilla, Amber, Benzoin, Sandalwood, Vetiver, Orris, Ambergris, Tonka
Turin gives it five stars and dubs it a "powdery floral." Very worth trying.
I have a mini of the parfum from the 80s. Just a dab on the wrist produces a nuclear cloud of the most gorgeous scent, the unmistakable Guerlain iris with its bread-and-butter notes, and the jammy black currant. This part of Chamade reminds me of Eau de Camille in its almost cocoa notes. Then there are the white florals, impossible to tell where one begins and the other ends, just a symphony of jasmine and ylang ylang. It is loud, mature and opulent, and I would recognize it anywhere. Dries down powdery, the smell of a woman who went to bed in her make up and woke up alone.
Chamade (vintage mid-'80s bottle here) is a dark, powerful herbal chypre opening with a foggy, grey, masculine austerity all over: a bouquet of herbs, humid flowers, musky notes, a powdery side, a dry leather base. But most of all, herbs, like in a man's fougère. The reference here seems to be halfway classic chypres à la Guerlain or the (unfairly underrated) great Guy Laroche, and Cabochard or Habanita, that family of "bitchy", skanky feminine scents, although more refined and adorned here by a beautiful, impalpable cloud of lively, radiant, graceful hyacint-soapy talc notes which are not "on skin" but you can clearly smell them in the sillage (an "effect" I totally love). Basically a classic structure which recalls echoes of memorable chypres, with flowers, woods, herbs and resins, just fairly darker, greener, bitter, more ambiguously sensual and nastier, especially for the first hour or so, almost like a chypre for gentlemen if it wasn't for an overall subtle but perceivably soapy-talc softness and a dark, carnal but feminine sensuality running underneath the blend (aldehydes, flowers, vanilla, musky notes). Classy and compelling like "the great ones", perhaps a little less original as to me it smells pretty much a "déjà-vu" to most extents, but surely worth a try if you are a fan of the genre.
Chamade starts out as a surprisingly aggressive spicy floral with green overtones and more than a trace of sweet vanilla in the background. The spices settle down very quickly, while the green notes amp up to balance the florals in seamlessly blended off-dry and pleasantly bitter accord of great balance and beauty.
The spicy and vanillic components of the opening reassert themselves ever so slowly as Chamade evolves, moving the heart deeper at a rate that is nearly imperceptible. At the same time, a wave of soapy/powdery aldehydes wells up, and this keeps Chamade from growing overly heavy as it sweetens.
Following Chamade’s progress is like watching a slow, formal 18th century dance, the sort where the participants continually exchange positions while remaining in two lines. The end result is an accord that is extraordinarily soft and velvety, but at the same time light and bright, not ponderous or treacly.
The vanillic drydown that Chamade reaches after a few hours marks it clearly as a Guerlain product. It is an oddly “innocent” fragrance for Guerlain, but it upholds the house’s standard of complex development. It is a pretty, easily worn, and versatile scent that manages not to be trivial. A good thing.
This was, for a short while, 'my first ever Parfum' - and what a sensuous and sensual joy Chamade is! Bliss in a bottle...
The story of Chamade is well known, but worth re-visiting (albeit briefly). The drumbeat of surrender, the heart pierced, the world, the person, the heart all, literally, turned upside down - (and all captured in a brilliantly designed bottle, a miniature work of art in it's own right). Bottle and juice in perfect union. Such 'scent-ual' symbolism!
It's a rare rare thing - but when impossible things happen you need a perfume to capture the moment, something special, a touch of Guerlain genius to distil such a wondrous feeling into a fragrance that encapsulates the quintessence of 'a love like no other'...
Chamade is a complex, captivating floral - evanescent, enchanting, eternal. It is a perfume of indescribable beauty. For some things in this world, and Chamade is surely one, just are masterpieces - reveries that repay re-visiting, re-reading, re-feeling. Such joy!!
The words may, and do, come a-tumbling-out, but sometimes in life saying nothing says everything... Silence is eloquence... My Parfum was a gift - for the one woman in this world who has ever made me speechless... The-One who will always share the scent of my soul... "So eloquent... So charming... So adorable"... Chamade - a perfume that make souls glow... A masterpiece.
13th May, 2014 (last edited: 23rd May, 2014)
Another of the "important" Guerlains that I'm going to have to pass on. The current EDT starts off with a blast of sweet fake-smelling lemon mixed with Guerlain's signature sweet pea note. They are quickly joined by those aldehydes that smell like that stinky 80's pump hairspray, as well as a plasticky, fake rose note that combines with dark waxy honey in a weird attempt to smell "limpid" but mostly smells "experimental". There's also some confusing tarragon and cassis in there, and the whole thing just smells weird, like synthetic plastic versions of a whole bunch of things that should smell beautiful.
Figuring that I must be missing something, I tried the extrait for comparison. It's definitely a lot better. By amplifying the base, Chamade switched from a synthetic plastic-fueled nightmare into a grand aldehydic floral. I still didn't care for the tarragon and the overly-waxy rose, but it was definitely enough to turn this review from a thumbs down to a neutral.
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This one starts off with a massive wall-of-sound green note that sits somewhere between powdery and bitter. It’s a great opening that’s chased by a wild bouquet of florals and aldehydes, but surprisingly the whole scent doesn’t lean too floral, maintaining instead a slightly spiced oriental parity. It’s super vintage smelling and a bit schmaltzy, but buoyant and kind of fun all the same. However, after all the interesting opening stuff has burned off, what’s left is a powder bomb over a snoozy base. While they last, the opening notes are crystalline and expressive—real attention getters—but the remainder just seems to be going through motions.
This review is for the vintage perfume:
The opening is simple but brilliant: hyacinth, one of the best, together with a very special jasmine, forms a wonderfully rich and intense initial impression. Absolutely gorgeous. In the dry down galbanum and ylang-ylang add to the floral character, enhanced by a fruity undertone. Gradually a vanilla of unsurpassed quality gradually grows in prominence, peaking in the early base where a soft woodsy note is added that has whiffs of hazel and of sandal passing by. At times I get a soft amber aroma. Eventually, the vanilla, never too sweet, is gradually fading out, accompanied by a soft and gentle powdery note in the background. The ingredients are of astounding quality, beautifully smoothly blended without losing structure, and of velvety richness and great purity, especially in the top notes. Good silage and projection with ten hours of longevity. One of the house's masterpieces.
I can, with no hesitation, name Chamade as one of the greatest perfumes ever made. The basic idea seems simple enough, a green aldehydic floral among many. But it's how Chamade presents this theme that makes it so great, so instantly recognizable. On a horizontal axis, the perfume operates on the standard trope of cool to warm, from icy green to golden sunset, in the effortless grace that can only be described as French. The quality of every chord in this range is astounding, each steeped in the richness, abstraction, and homophonic mastery that is the hallmark of Jacques Guerlain's style. The greatness doesn't stop here. Chamade is special also in in that is has that rarest quality: surprise. Every time I put the stuff on, I am shocked by the moment when it sheds it hardened mein for an intense chord of rose, amber, and coffee-like wood that can only have been the product of divine intervention. And the drydown! Has there ever been a finale at once so comforting and interesting? Many perfumes are beautiful; many are interesting. But very few, Chamade included, can be considered both. Monumental.
This is one bright, spring time cent, but my overall impression is neutral because my dislike towards aldehydes, so it opens up like hair spray, a bit like synthetic, its moderate dose of aldehydes that soon mellows into some complex floral, soft, a touch powdery sweet smell,i admire the complexity , and refinement of this, but something there doesn't work for me, because gives off some artificial kind of smell
Florals are mix of watery lilac and honeied yilang. I appreciate this very much but neutral goes on my taste. I love the development of the scent it improves with time, and my image is cloud of something feminine, that can not be defined, like white veil
Another of my Guerlain Perfumes that I have been wearing since the Seventies
on and off.
To me there is something mesmerising about the aroma that I can't put my finger on.
I have Vintage Eau de Parfum ( my local pharmacy was stopping selling perfumes a good few years ago and saved a number of classics for me ).
On my skin this perfume settles into a warm classic vanilla scent with a twist.
I will leave the descriptions to others on site better than myself, as it has all been said before.
A perfect, imaginary spring meadow – well, one rarely finds hyacinths in meadows and there is a dryness throughout that doesn’t fit either. But the feeling of space, light fresh floral airs drifting through, a green shade, that’s all there. Along with a smooth, powdery vanillic Guerlain base right from the start. The hyacinth is beautifully realized – soft and will-o-wispy, rather than blaring and headachy. There is a butteriness suggestive of the narcissus family. Everything is serenely in place.
Major problem with the EDT is that you are left with the base within about two hours – it’s beautifully done, but not that distinctive. Now to try and score some EDP…
I used to visit Michele et File in San Francisco...
But sadly at that time I still smoked cigarettes & I needed a perfume that could accommodate wine & cigarettes. Chamade had a depth that my brain/nose still remembers, a sort of space between a touch of flowers and a firm smoky undertone where my own scents could fit in.
I think even after all these years & no wine & no cigarettes, I would love to wear Chamade. I suspect I like the mid-notes described by some of the reviewers, the black current bud & galbanum. I don't recall much ylang-ylang type scent, really...obviously I liked woody notes (woodsmoke)..
At this stage, I'd better come up with the truth!. Even though, I live in Ireland, I'm actually French and I have a sad compulsive disorder when it comes to buying Guerlain perfumes! I basically have to have them all- this can be tricky here in Ireland- but not anymore thanks to the Internet...It all started back in the 80's in Paris. My mum used to own two big bottles of Chamade and Shalimar. I'd say she only used them twice a year- at christmas and on her wedding anniversary. This suited me just fine: a spritz here and a spritz there and I must have been the most expensive scented teenager in town.
Bref, as we say, this must have been the start of it all. I am unashamedly biaised when it comes to Guerlain- must be the early neurone connections made at the time.
I have to admit that this perfume makes me sneeze when I spray it on: this is a small price to pay to smell both gorgeous and exceptional.
I was fifteen and it was almost Christmas ... I was shopping in a busy department store, when suddenly I smelled the MOST BEAUTIFUL FRAGRANCE IN THE WORLD. I had to find out what it was and where it came from. In spite of the crowd, I made my way to the perfume section and I discovered Chamade de Guerlain. This happened ten years ago and Chamade is still the angel scent that follows me everywhere I go and that warms up my heart when I feel a little sad. (Toronto, Canada)
Chamade captures the olfactory gestalt of Springtime like no other perfume. It smells like fresh stems, flowers, moisture, soil and rot. Succulence and indolence. More than a summary of notes, though, it smells like the sensations of Spring. It combines the acceleration of exploding growth and the leisurely pace of a world thawing over time. The rush of hyacinth pushing against the constraint of snow and pollen exploding from flowering trees convey the good-natured horniness and impatience of youth, yet the rebirth of the season is a free pass to young and old alike. The juxtaposition of the cool, crisp greenness and the burnished languor of the base, create a tension, an indeterminacy. It comments on one season but refers to the cyclical nature of time, posing questions without offering conclusions.
Springtime is classically the season of potential and therefore, expectation. It suggests wide-open horizons and dreams of love and success, but a crocus blooms only briefly and not all the chicks that hatch survive. Spring is equally passionate and cruel.
And I thought opera was melodramatic.
Chamade expounds on all of the above better than I could ever hope to. I avoid describing artwork as great because the ‘greats’ are usually a tally of opinions and ‘musts’. Greatness is held out as a threshold, a line to be crossed. Still, greatness in art has precedent. Great works are perennially rediscovered by individuals and generations because they are significant and remarkable. They express the meaning of their times at the same time that they offer advice to future generations.
Chamade is a great perfume and it can be read on many levels, another attribute of great work. Its meaning for you could be Springtime, the story and the era of the novel after which it is named (Francoise Sagan’s La Chamade) or the excellence of its composition. Most ‘great’ perfumes are cited for the measurable effect they had on the state of the art. Chamade didn’t spawn movements and artistic trends in that way that Fougère Royale, Mitsouko, Shalimar and other iconic perfumes did. Its lasting influence is its capacity to frame broader meanings through expert composition.
I know that my take on Chamade comes off like a litany of cheap platitudes, and I apologize for that. I’ve tried to write about Chamade numerous time, each time throwing out what I’ve written as it never seemed to capture the pertinence of Chamade. I still don’t do Chamade justice, but I’ve changed my goal from understanding it to acknowledging it.
11th December, 2010 (last edited: 17th May, 2015)
The opening starts harshly with green notes Hyacinth and Aldehyde as it dries down it gets a little more softer and warmer consisting of amber dry sandalwood
and the oils of the tolu Balsam and i can
detect nuances of civet in little patches
Lilac with it's sharpness and spiciness
with it's delicate powdery rose holds
it own in a faintest of ways i'm going to be blunt here so.
do you think you'll Surrender to the
Magic of Chamade Unfortunily No.
Do you love the bottle Yes.
do you hate this fragrance no but it's not worth to purchase again.
I agree with Mimi Gardenia who said, "Sweet Holy Mother ! If there is a smell of heaven ,angels ,clouds and The Light of God - this is it."
It is the smell of sacred forests as well. It's what a green fairy in the sacred forest would wear. It's divine.
Total agreement with mysticknot...this is what Heaven must smell like.
Years ago, I had a tiny EDT sample of this...it had the top that looked like a little silver acorn. My mother only wore Estee, then White Linen, so I was lucky enough to get her rejects...and there were lots of them! This one, though captivated me then and captivates me still. The green, fresh opening leading into the most subtly sexy drydown; reminiscent of a pollen-y full-blown bouquet and just a whiff of the Guerlinade vanillic funk...oh my. In it, I'm Catherine Deneuve, or Julie Christie. Classy and hella sexy. Chamade just might be the fragrance I'd take to a desert island with me.
Reading the reviews of Chamade published on Base Notes, I sometimes wondered if I was the same scent that I own. I have a bottle of "Eau de Parfum" and its main feature is to be my very warmest winter scent - my other winter favourite being Coco. No trace of lightness or green, Chamade to me is hot, orangey (the color, not the fruit) sunny, heavy but very cosy, elegant and above all, extrovert!
All right, I may not have the type to wear this kind of perfume, being very light of skin petite... and not very extovert. I spray it sparsely on my wrists, It is quite enough for me.
I agree with Taliaseki who finds the entry too harsh - but I do smell Hyacinth, strongly so, and it is the part I dislike about Chamade. Afterwards (a short time, thanks god) it gets all creamy and powdery ,like a luxury coat. Then I can go out even if it freezes hard!
Sweet Holy Mother ! If there is a smell of heaven ,angels ,clouds and The Light of God - this is it.
The opening is a burst of sweet goodness- innocence, like a smile,tinged with some green - it's strong ,memorable. The opening hit 'the good part' in me straight away . it becomes more powdery as it progresses, some what sweet floral ,clean ,still half green. Vanilla is more apparent in the drydown . Few perfumes have this effect on me . I tell you Jean Paul Guerlain was inspired by an angel .Thanks to Haunani who gifted me a sample. My own angel here ! :)
(Parfum): The first few minutes feature an intense green topnote, but within ten minutes a narcissus-based, spicy floral heart emerges, with the soft vanilla notes of the Guerlinade chiming in quietly underneath. Others have described this fragrance as "powdery," and while I see what they're getting at, it is not at all the typical baby powder or soapy aldehydic sparkle of other green scents but rather a richer, spicier and almost oily note that grows in strength through the drydown. This is much crisper than I had expected, and though it is a floral oriental it doesn't have a single trace of sweetness, which means that daring guys can probably pull it off.
This scent differs quite a lot in its formulations, which seem to get spicier as the strength increases. The EdT is the greenest and crispest of the lot. The (now vintage) PdT is significantly more floral, and to my nose has a much more identifiable rose note than the other formulations. (I haven't tried the EdP that has since replaced it). The parfum is definitely the spiciest of the three.
25th February, 2010 (last edited: 17th December, 2010)
(Pure Parum review, 2008 production)
I"ve been searching for a 'Green' scent for over six months. I liked the EDT version, and was curious to compare that to the modern pure parfum.
The PP is more of a skin scent, and retains the heavenly, powdery dry down. I thought the EDT opening was 'too strong', but in PP hte opening is crisp and vibrant.
The EDT lasts a good 6-8 hours on me, and the PP 10-12.
This is one of the few scents that I recieved an unsolicited compliment on, and I can imagine why. It's very uplifting, energizing, and clean. Many greens that I try are either too sharp (Chanel 19), too course (Harris Miller's Fleur du Matin), too fleeting (MDCI's En Coeur en Mai) or too forgetable (???)
But this is Baby Bear's bed. It's just right. Mmm!